The Cause and Effect Saga - Extra 3: April Fools
by Faylinn Night
Summary: It's April Fools Day, and the King of Pranks has plans. Only, this year he gets a little help. [April Fools Special]


**Author's Notes:** Happy April Fools, Dudes and Dudettes! This plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone, so I let it roam. Enjoy the fun! And don't mind Raph's potty mouth. ;D Nia and Melody are OCs of mine. Nia's introduced in _'Finding Balance_' (married to Raph in '_Cause Worth Celebrating_') while Melody's introduced in _'Hollow Hearts_' (married to Don in '_Aeonian_').

**Disclaimer:** TMNT belongs to Nick/Eastman/Laird. Nia Hamato and Melody Hamato belong to me. I'm in no way making any money. Thanks.

* * *

**Cause and Effect: ****April Fools**

Hamato Michelangelo waited in an Indian-style position. Though he didn't need to be on the cool floor, he liked the drama added by his location at the threshold between the Lair's kitchen and living room. It provided the perfect vantage point for what lay ahead, what would undoubtedly be a humorous spectacle. Besides, Nia was ready by the light-switch to illuminate the area when the cue sounded.

And he always took the time to do things right on April first.

"I—I don't know about this, Mikey-niichan," Nia said.

She sounded too cute not to smile, so the mutant sniggered while imagining her shifty expression in the dark. "Don't worry, Ni; I'm a pro."

"I—I don't doubt that, but…"

"But?"

"I've never done something like this before."

"Only because you grew up in near seclusion." Pausing, Mikey glanced towards the light-switch, where he sensed the human shuffle. "It's fun. Trust me."

"I do," Nia shot back. Then, she sighed. "I just…"

"Oh, Raphy will forgive you," Mikey chimed with a snort. "He doesn't stay mad forever. Usually…"

* * *

Hamato Raphael slowly inhaled warm, foggy air then wiped condensation off the bathroom mirror, dreading what he'd find. He had already noticed the odd color of his arm when he exited the running shower, yet glancing into the wet mirror cemented the severity of what he expected.

He was blue.

Not green.

Blue.

He lifted a three-finger hand to feel the scarred texture of his right cheek. The two row trail left by Pierce's knives back in December was more prominent with the changed skin tone, and he growled, tracing it across his eye that stung. However, its black shade was hardly a concern. So he used a towel beside the sink to dry himself more, hoping the color would lift.

The bright towel wasn't even stained, and the hothead snarled as he glanced down in realization that everywhere the shower water had touched was now tinted.

"I'm gunna kill ya, Mikey!" he bellowed, reaching for the doorknob.

* * *

Hamato Melody had no reason to watch her robotic hand; she knew how far away the large jar of banana peppers sat on the desk in her and Donatello's bedroom. Besides, she couldn't afford to stop reading her textbook. Spring Quarter for school had started two days ago, so she wanted to keep up with the given assignments as they arrived.

Regrettably, restrictions of her enrollment meant she needed to participate via online. Meaning, she needed to use a computer. Because of this, she left several tasks for later—like the 'forum introduction' and social requirements like 'commenting'.

'_I can make the Damn Mechanic do it,'_ she thought, plopping a cluster of tart peppers in her mouth. As she chewed them roughly, she highlighted a few terms she learned long ago yet wanted to copy later for her professor. '_Proof. Olson said I must show the whole thought process, regardless of how tedious it may be. I wish I could just—_'

The cyborg paused.

She wouldn't admit she was startled, though her body tingled to the edges of her metallic limbs while she regarded the banana peppers. Who knew when Michelangelo had time to sneak into the room? It couldn't have been long ago, as he was the only one who'd place a photograph of himself inside the jar. It left the impression that his contorted 'severed' head was pickling in the yellow-green liquid, like some B-rate horror movie.

And she found it mildly distracting.

* * *

"Is that all, Sensei?" Hamato Donatello questioned, jotting down a line on the lined notebook he held.

"Hai," Splinter answered. He kept exasperation from his tone, but not his dark eyes, which roamed the Lab.

The purple-masked Chūnin sighed. "I—I know you don't like these health surveys. It's just to help."

"Gray-san likes to keep thorough records, I am aware."

"It's a good habit for a doctor. Besides"—the mutant turtle closed his notebook with a small grin—"denying her is pointless."

"As I am starting to realize." Despite a slight edge, the aged master chuckled. He watched intently while his son stood from his backless stool, and Don felt his gaze on him when he neared the secondary computer in his Lab. "I am surprised that you and Raphael are not on guard for the day."

Don paused at his computer chair, glancing over his shoulder. "What do you—? Oh, yeah."

"April first is a notorious date for our Clan," Splinter noted, smiling.

"Mikey's been under surveillance since we returned from the Farmhouse, so it'd be hard for him to surprise us."

"I recall many years where Leonardo claimed likewise."

"But this year we have ladies among us. He might behave. And in case he doesn't, Raph and I fortified our rooms."

"Just your rooms?"

Don shrugged then started to sit in the computer chair. "I stayed in the Lab all night too, for security. There's no way he could've—"

Honk!

A colorful curse almost escaped Donatello when a sudden, loud sound filled the Lab. The Chūnin literally fell out of his chair in shock and his heart thumped in his ears. He didn't bother lifting from the concrete until his racing mind cleared, his gaze settling on the chair's seat height adjuster. Duck tapped to it was a blow horn, which was poised to go off when weight pushed the seat glide down.

"A—apparently, you were not as prepared as you thought," Splinter said in clear amusement.

Don narrowed his eyes at the blow horn and collected himself off the ground, muttering, "Michelangelo."

* * *

Hamato Nia stood by the light-switch. Her trembling hand rested against its smooth surface, waiting, yet she felt unsure of her task, hypersensitive to any and all movement in the Lair. Was this really okay? She and Michelangelo were causing a lot of trouble for everyone—on purpose, at that! So she couldn't help how her breath quickened or how her heart rate increased.

'_I hope Raph's not too mad_,' she thought, gripping the switch.

Her chest rose with an inhale, but before she could sigh, a duo of displeased ninjas caused her to jump. She hesitated to flip the switch when thundering legs followed from all around, and almost bailed as someone's labored breathing grew louder.

"Nia, now!" Michelangelo hissed from the kitchen.

The artist did as requested by fumbling through her job, then blinked until her vision adjusted to the harsh lights filling the area. Stationed in a corner near the kitchen pantry, she turned to greet the trio that stood in the living room. They glanced over a wide barrier of cups that'd been set up after the pranksters moved the furniture, possibly unsure of their purpose, and remained still.

"Nia"—Donatello gawked—"you're _part _of this?"

Speechless, Nia spared him an apologetic smile.

"What are these?" Melody questioned, attention set on the cup grid between the groups.

"Fuck that!" Raphael stomped forward, close to an outer cup, and Nia had a hard time keeping laughter at bay because he reminded her of a dripping wet blueberry.

"Dude, you look like an angry Smurf!" Somehow, Mikey managed to keep from falling over, only sniggering at the hothead's dangerous growl.

"What the hell did ya put in the shower head?" Raph asked, blue eye ridges drawn close.

"Just a little Mikey specialty." The orange-masked Chūnin flashed a Cheshire grin. "There is _some_ science I like."

"How about the science 'a separatin' yer head from yer body?"

"Actually," Nia interjected meekly, "I did the shower."

Slowly, Raph hands fell from the punch he placed in his palm. He looked somewhat betrayed, and Nia sensed his frustration. But he couldn't keep his glare on her. It landed full-force on Michelangelo, who held his head up smugly.

"Why are ya corruptin' my wife?" he demanded.

"Look at her sweet face," the prank master countered with a gesture towards the artist. "How could I prank that? Clearly, the only choice was to have her on my side."

"And you _joined_?" questioned Donatello thinly. "He practically gave me a heart attack!"

Nia twiddled her thumbs, trying hard to ignore the genius' pointed stare. The sudden urge to apologize reared its head, yet she caught her cohort's gaze, noting the encouragement and resolve in his bright blue eyes. '_I _did_ cave at Mikey's request and…I am kind'a having fun, so…I should stand by him._'

"A heart attack would beat this shit!" Raph yelled towards Donny, jabbing a thumb at his cracked, blue-tinted plastron. He snorted then turned his attention back to the mutant sitting on the kitchen's threshold. "Wait until I get my hands on ya, ya son of a—"

Mikey wagged a finger. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Raphy."

"Ya think a little mess is gunna stop me?"

"Those cups aren't filled with water or Sprite."

The 'naked' Chūnin grew quiet, eyeing the sea of close-set cups. "What are they filled wit' then?"

"Another kind of science: a home brewed Cyanoacrylate."

"Cyan what?"

"A type of superglue," Melody offered, listless.

"Bingo, Melody! Course, I didn't have enough for all of them, so, yeah, I sort'a lied about the water and Sprite. However"—Mikey snapped his fingers then pointed towards the trio—"you don't know which ones those are."

"Glue ain't gunna save ya," Raphael snarled while cracking his knuckles.

Nia opened her mouth to ward off her husband—it was an instinct. No sooner did she squeak, did Raph bulldoze forward. He knocked over several cups of water (or Sprite), smirking at his progress through three rows. But Nia knew better, and wasn't surprised by Michelangelo's grin. Raph stopped at the fifth row like an animal stuck in mud, glaring down at his feet that refused to leave the concrete.

"Mikey, ya—"

The younger brother shrugged under the hothead's narrowed eyes. "Told ya."

"You must have given yourself a safe path out," Melody said matter-of-factly. She glanced over the cups a little too seriously, as if they were all potential suspects. "It would be the proper forethought, should anything go wrong."

"Think I would point that out?" Mikey retorted.

"No," the cyborg answered. "But it means is exists…"

"Uh…" Nia blinked, watching as Melody's robotic eye flashed every few seconds. "Wh—what are you doing?"

The taller young woman didn't answer, and once she sorted her thoughts, she passed her husband to follow the path made by Raph's anger. Wordless, she gripped the mutant's marginal scutes from a safe distance. Nia held in a cry of worry, yet trusted Melody was aware of her own strength—as proven by how she peeled the hothead's feet from the floor. The artist cringed at his surprised yelp then wrung her hands when his blue face flushed with pain.

He kept quiet after being placed down, biting his lip and holding his breath while Melody spoke up behind him, "I know the way, if you care to follow my lead."

"_Yer_ lead, Gray?" Raph challenged. The way his toes curled didn't go unnoticed by his wife while he frowned.

"I have no need to push. My prank was hardly infuriating, so I could return to studying without a second thought."

"How could ya know the path anyway?"

"Scans of the cups' chemical makeup."

"You can do that?" Mikey interjected, slack-jawed.

Raphael's amber eyes glanced at the fidgeting orange-masked mutant then the cyborg. "Ya guarantee I can reach him?"

"I guarantee I can give you the best path."

"Good enough for me."

"Raph"—Mikey rocked back on his carapase as Melody yelled the first command—"be reasonable!"

Nia never expected Michelangelo's pleas to be heeded. And they weren't. Melody and Raphael exercised surprising teamwork through the trap, bringing the hothead within arm's grasp of his youngest brother in seconds. Mikey hardly had time to lift himself from the tile floor before being tackled, and the rolling ninjas overturned several cups of Sprite.

"How long does this last?" Raph demanded, slipping an arm under Mikey's arm pit.

The nunchaku master dove for freedom in vain. "A few days!"

"How many's 'a few'?"

"Come on, Dude. This is funny stuff!"

"_How many_?"

Mikey cringed on the kitchen floor and his blue eyes raised pleadingly towards Nia from Raph's Nelson Hold. It was a cue. So, inhaling in preparation, the artist tiptoed passed the Hamato brothers to reach the island countertop.

"What are ya doin', traitor?" Raph asked, eye ridges furrowed and bright eyes squinted.

"We have peace offerings for this…part."

"Oh?"

"Y—yeah. The dye will wear off in three days, so we made sure we got some favorites." Nia gestured to several treats spread along a yellow and green striped sheet. Its mouth-watering allure was enough to tempt any sweet tooth, yet Raph and Don scrutinized it with scrunched faces.

"What's the catch?" questioned the approaching genius.

"There's no catch; I'm sorry!" Mikey insisted. Then, he hissed in pain.

"Really," Nia added. She reached for a clear goblet filled with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce. Her fingers plucked the cherry off its top then plopped it in her mouth, which chewed it while she spoke. "See? It's safe."

"Those better be original Oreos, Jackass," Raph snarled. He shoved Mikey's face against the floor when he rose to his feet, and Nia rounded his figure so he and Don could debate their chances at the island.

"Y—you okay, Mikey-niichan?" she questioned, helping Mikey up with her free arm.

"Oh, I'll be better in a second," the prankster whispered back. His devious smile was shaded by the kitchen's single light and obscured by Nia's head, so he only stifled his laughter when his siblings reached for some desserts.

Nia didn't have the gull to turn around when she heard gagging then cursing. She knew for a fact the Oreo icing had been replaced with toothpaste and the doughnuts were teeming with mayo, not custard.

After all, the treat she sucked on was nothing more than mashed potatoes and gravy…


End file.
